The Avengers belong to Marvel, and the mentioned characters belong to their respective owners. I own nothing...
Thanks to everyone who favorite this story. Special thanks to Miss Adventurer who beta'd for me. I'm still looking for multiple beta readers. Please PM if interested. If you like the story, please reward me with a review. I'd love to hear your from you.
A/N: I fulfilled two of my fondest wishes in regards to the Avengers.
1. I know they were under the influence of Loki's glow stick but to see Tony and Steve actually fight would have been on my bucket list! None of this conflict resolution stuff. Two guys let loose after all the trash talking AND THEN walk away friends. Settling it like men.
2. My other wish was to see Steve get more than a rushed kiss from Peggy in Captain America. They conveyed a lot of chemistry without ever actually touching. Great acting. I wanted to write a scene where they actually touch. Desire but no sex.
Betty Smith wrote "A Tree Grows in Brooklyn". Excellent film! I took a lot of inspiration from it. I also watched the Captain America movie again and Steve's SSR file (that Peggy Carter is holding at the end) says his address was 1404 F Br (obscured) Brooklyn, NY. There are quadrillion streets in Brooklyn starting with 'BR'. So I just picked a neighborhood that could fit Steve's background and the story. If I've made any mistakes in describing Brooklyn, please forgive me. Thank God for Google Maps and Traffic View!
Truth be told, Tony Stark had never crossed into the borough of Brooklyn except to fly over it. When he learned that Steve Rogers requested an apartment in the same poor German-Irish ward he'd been brought up in, he had been afraid that some pencil pusher at SHIELD had allocated a place in some God-awful crime ridden 'hood to the war hero to save a few bucks. Instead he was pleasantly surprised to find Steve now resided in an influential hub for hipsters and artsy types at Bedford and Grand. He was pretty sure this was not the neighborhood Steve Rogers remembered. The tenements Steve had probably known had been replaced with upscale family apartment buildings. The area had scores of young people and families walking the main thoroughfares that were lined with trendy shops and restaurants. It was exactly the place he would have placed a man out of time to adjust to the 21st century, other than Avengers Tower of course.
Tony picked up his mobile and called Steve's apartment and for the umpteenth time got his voicemail. Although frustrated, Tony chuckled every time he heard the recording.
"Hi. You have reached Steve Rogers' phone and I am not at home."
"Never tell anyone you're not home. Makes you a target for burglaries." Phil Coulson could be heard interrupting in the background.
"Okay. (Throat clearing) You have reached Steve Rogers' phone. I'm not available but you may leave a message. I will return your call."
At the sound of the beep, Tony saluted in jest. "You're such a boy scout, Rogers. You probably would return every phone call. Except mine of course. It's Stark. You know the number by now. Call me. Uh….please."
Tony hung up and patted his steering wheel in frustration. He hadn't planned on spending all day looking for Captain America before asking him to join the Avengers. He thought it would be pretty straight forward. He'd drop the proposition and Captain America would jump at the chance to join his new cool team of superheroes! Simple. Or at least he hoped it would be.
'What else did an out of time super soldier have to do?' Tony rationalized.
Anxiety was building in the pit of his stomach and he decided he wasn't waiting anymore. However, instead of driving off, Tony got out of the car, crossed the street to Steve's building and let himself into the front doors of the white deco apartment building.
Cleverly, Tony picked up some throw away junk mail from the floor in front of the mailboxes. He only had to wait a few minutes before someone exited the inner security doors. He held the door for a mother and her small son as the security doors buzzed. Grateful, she thanked the well groomed man in sunglasses.
"No problem. Just getting my mail." He flashed the junk mail at her and went in.
There was no one in the third floor hallway where Steve's apartment was. Tony called his home number again and listened at the door. He could hear it ringing but there was no movement in the apartment. Steve was not at home.
A checkered boarding school past gave Tony certain skills that came in handy at times like these. He broke in.
As he suspected, Captain America's Number One fan boy, Phil Coulson had set Steve up in an apartment that screamed the 1940s with the exception of the modern appliances and electronics. Tony entered the apartment through the living room, where the décor was drab with very little color. Now he knew why movies of that era were in black and white. Art imitated life.
The kitchen seemed to have been remodeled. A gas stove now replaced an old coal stove that had left an imprint of the smoke stack on the ceiling. The kitchen aside from new stainless steel appliances had a deep sink uncharacteristic of modern kitchens. Tony guessed the reason for the depth was that back in the day it was used to wash laundry but now was just a period piece. An old fashioned coffee percolator sat on the stove next to a brand new coffee maker. Obviously, Cap had not taken well to 21st century conveniences. As further evidence, he noticed that a coffee cup, a spoon and a small dish had been left drying in a rack while a brand new dishwasher sat untouched.
Tony went down the hall, and peered into the only bedroom. The room had a hardwood constructed bed frame, side tables, and dressers with deep rich hues. The bedding and upholstery matched the somber color scheme and was of the thick fabrics of the era. It reminded him of his Grandmother Iris' old mausoleum of a mansion. Captain America and Nana Iris had the same taste.
'Haunted Mansion Fabulous!' He thought.
He was about to leave the bedroom when something caught his eye, a sketch pad on the nightstand. Somewhere in his memory, he remembered being told Steve had dabbled in sketching during the war. Tony's curiosity got the better of him. He opened the sketchpad and began flipping through it. Most of the drawings were of the neighborhood and random strangers in the park or coffee shops. Then Tony got a real glimpse into Steve Rogers.
A collection of grisly battle scenes with destroyed cities and morbid death became prominent as he browsed further. He read the titles: The American victory and great losses at the Battle of the Bulge, Misery in Hurtgen Forest, Friendly Fire at St. Lo, and the Men of the 86th Chemical Battalion. Steve had seen the worst of the worst.
The realism of the sketches evoked his own wartime memories of Afghanistan. Memories that he'd spent the last few years trying to outrun. He couldn't imagine being a super soldier and having a lifetime of things like that in your head. Unlike him, Steve had never acted out or gone off the deep end. Instead, Steve seemed to move through life with a "Let's get this done" attitude, never bothering to wallow in his losses. Steve Rogers really was the greatest of the Greatest Generation.
Tony was about to place the pad back on the night table when two drawings that had been torn out and tucked in the back of the pad fluttered to the floor. He picked them up and examined them.
The first sketch he knew immediately to be James "Bucky" Barnes, Cap's battle buddy in World War II. Anyone who knew Captain America lore knew that Bucky had been killed in action on an operation against the Red Skull in '44.
Confusion spread over Tony's features as he looked at the second sketch. It was also a sketch of Bucky but he was wearing a black mask across his face. The words Winter Soldier were written beneath his grim headshot.
Although it was obvious that this was the same man in both sketches, the demeanor in each sketch couldn't be more different. One was a man light-hearted and laughing, the other was a cold man with a sinister veneer. Why had Cap drawn Bucky as this Winter Soldier?
Tony took out his phone and snapped a photo of the Winter Soldier sketch. Then he pressed the app on his phone allowing him to communicate with Jarvis away from a computer terminal. "Jarvis, get what you can on a 'Winter Soldier' from the SHIELD database and get back to me."
"Yes, sir."
Tony's gut told him that this was related to the SHIELD mission, Cap had been sent on recently and he had every intention of finding out why Steve was obsessing about this Winter Soldier.
McElroy's Gym was only six blocks from Steve's apartment. It wasn't one of those lady gyms with stair climbers, treadmills and gyratory ski machines. Steve had gone in several of those and run right out. Then he found McElroy's. It was an older building that gave him the comfort of the time he'd left behind and the members were men or mostly men boxing and lifting weights.
Jim McElroy, the elderly owner was only twenty five years younger than Steve. Like Steve he'd also grown up in Williamsburg and had been part of the community of German and Irish Americans that had lived here for generations. Jim had seen firsthand how the neighborhood had changed and Steve had spent many evenings with him in his little office at the back of the gym reminiscing about the neighborhood.
Steve had seen that Brooklyn had become a fashionable place to live but other than the diversity of the neighborhood, he thought Williamsburg was much the same as it had been. The schools, the churches… Even the local library still had a banner proclaiming Brooklyn's finest writers: Walt Whitman and Betty Smith.
He still recognized the place where he and Bucky had sold junk for pennies and the public school where they attended and did odd jobs. He remembered fondly how Bucky had spent his money on sweets and took his best buddy to the movies or ballgames. However, Steve had saved the money he earned to continue his education. Each week he'd put his money in a tin can he kept under his bed in loose floorboards. Then his mother's sickness had gotten worse and Steve had to use that money to bury her.
Sarah Rogers had died when Steve was a teenager, a nurse in the city's TB wards. Steve's father, Joe Rogers' exposure to the deadly mustard gas in the Great War made him susceptible to the disease in the filthy trenches where the 107th Infantry lived and fought. When Joe had gotten back to New York, it was love at first sight for the veteran and the courageous nurse who risked her life to heal returning soldiers like him.
Steve knew now that his mother had probably caught the disease from his father. It made him sad to think that every laugh, touch, or dance his parents shared in their courtship and brief marriage was probably tainted by infection.
After Joe's death and even her own diagnosis, Sarah had continued her work at a city sanitarium for the sufferers of tuberculosis to support herself and her son. He had been her only consolation. Steven Grant Rogers was born on the 4th of July and it had seemed fitting to name him after an ancestor of Joe's who'd fought in the American Revolution. Although Steve had been sickly as a child, his mother had been careful to safeguard him from her illness and get him through so many of his own ailments.
Sarah Rogers' legacy to her son had been a romantic spirit and refusal to be beaten. Before she died, she'd made Steve promise to make something of himself. After her death, Steve had honored her wish. He had dropped out of high school to work, studied on his own and had taken the home exam to get his diploma. Later he'd talked his way into a job at Brooklyn College to get free courses, mostly art classes. He was a student there when World War II broke out and his life changed forever.
He often wondered what would have happened if he'd just accepted his 4F status and stayed out of the war.
'Would Bucky have survived the war in tact?' He thought.
Thinking of Bucky, now dubbed the Winter Soldier, made a discouraged Steve pound harder on the punching bag. He felt everyone's eyes on him but he was used to that. He'd been delivering merciless punishment on gym equipment every day and in recent weeks, more violently since his mission to capture the Winter Soldier.
Shortly after that mission, Fury had met with him, alerted about Steve's long brutal workouts.
"Something against having a personal life, Rogers?" The one-eyed soldier queried forcefully.
"I just rather keep busy that's all." Steve evaded. He didn't want to talk about Bucky. It hurt less when you stayed busy.
"We all need downtime."
Steve refused to comment.
"So you're just going to be a one man army, huh?" Nick ground out.
Steve could feel bitterness rising. "Just doing my job, sir! That was why I was thawed out right?" Steve was instantly sorry he said that. Nick Fury didn't deserve to be the target of his ire. "I'm fine, sir."
"No. You're not. You need R&R. But I get it. You're afraid of the peace. Maybe you think if you start a normal life you won't have to suffer loss?"
Steve hadn't thought about it. But why would he want to have a new life, or care for new people?
Fury interrupted his thoughts. "Steve, you've got a right to be screwed up after 60 plus years of lost time and losing everyone you were close to but you did your duty! You made the world safe! It's time to let go now."
Nick Fury let his words marinate in Steve's brain. "I know you aren't going to take voluntary leave so I'm going to do the next best thing for you. No more deployments AND you're barred from SHIELD training for a month.
"Sir?" Steve was lost without his routine and the certainty of a new mission.
"Dismissed, Captain! We'll re-evaluate in a month."
Punch, punch, punch and breathe! Punch, punch, punch and breathe!
Steve continued to punch the bag. At least he had McElroy's to come to each day. Punch, punch, punch and breathe. His breathed in short quick breaths. The bag rocked back and forth violently and he focused on his fists.
He was cognizant of his tendency to lose himself while working out and the danger of hurting someone, so he never took a sparring partner or asked anyone to spot him. The other boxers in the gym had no idea it was Captain America that frequented their gym or was destroying their equipment. Instead they shied away from the big guy with the killer right cross and tendency not to say much except to McElroy.
Without meaning to, Steve's mind drifted to unwanted memories.
The Red Skull's drone had threatened the Capitol building in Washington and he and the Winter Soldier worked together to stop him. As they had stood in the wreckage of the drone now in the waters of the Mall, he'd pleaded with Bucky.
"Come back with me, Bucky! We can set things right."
Bucky had shaken his head. He resisted. "Can't do that, Steve. Not yet. I need to sort things out in my head. To clean up the wreckage of my past. Alone."
Steve sighed. "You know I can't let you walk away." The Winter Soldier had committed numerous and atrocious crimes. The thought of those acts weighed on Steve's soul. He accepted Bucky's accusation and partially blamed himself for the man's misfortune and abuse.
But his friend would have to face justice. However, Steve was certain he could influence a mitigation of his punishment or even get Bucky pardoned. Steve was determined to help him through it all but his friend had other ideas.
Just then the downed aircraft exploded and filled the area around the men with flames and smoke. The Winter Soldier seized the opportunity to disappear in the carnage and escape.
Steve heard his friend's last words over his intercom. "Goodbye, Steve….Bucky out!"
It had been the first time the assassin had referred to himself by his name and not his Russian code name. He was somewhat comforted that Bucky was on the road to healing.
Steve increased his hits on the punching bag but unfortunately it was not able to take it. The bag went flying! He shook his head, took a deep breath and like a good soldier pushed back his unresolved feelings. He stared at the ruined punching bag spilling sand onto the floor.
"It figures you'd hang out in a dump like this. What are you trying to do, put this place out of business?"
Steve's head snapped up. He turned to the mocking voice that made the wisecrack. It was Tony Stark.
"What are you doing here, Stark?" The super soldier said as he reached for his towel to wipe the sweat pouring off him. Then he took in Tony's costume. The billionaire was dressed in a designer sweat suit with a hoodie and expensive sneakers.
"What?" Tony knew Steve was amused by his clothes. He feigned hurt. "I'll have you know this is considered very manly in certain circles."
Steve shook his head and rewrapped his taped hands. "Not this one." He quipped. His feelings were in turmoil and he was in no mood for Stark's antics.
Tony began jumping around and banged his gloved fists together. "I showed up at your house but you weren't home."
Steve was puzzled. "Why?"
"Dropping off a small gift." Tony said under his breath. "Anyway, after leaving your place, I was driving home and I passed this great gym! I said to myself 'Let's stop and find a sparring partner.' So here I am!" Then he raised his voice so the onlookers could hear. "If anybody's man enough!"
Steve got concerned. "Don't kid, Stark. Some of these guys will knock your block off."
Tony sized him up. "So put on your gloves. Let's go a few rounds."
Steve recognized the challenge he'd given Tony Stark on the SHIELD Helicarrier. He didn't realize it then but their hostility toward one another had been the influenced by Loki's scepter. Still he and Stark had managed to shake hands after defeating Loki. 'So what was this character up to?' He thought.
"Stop joking..."
The billionaire looked at him in deadly earnest. "Who's joking?
"Are you ever serious?"
"Do you ever laugh at anything?" Tony pushed back.
The Captain pushed past Tony and went to his gym bag.
"Didn't think so. You've been rather humorless since I met you. That's alright. I can always use a good straight man." Tony walked over to the boxing ring and climbed in. "Okay maybe one of these other guys…."
Cap got nervous and went back over to him trying to keep the jester billionaire out of trouble. "Cut it out! Be serious! You're not wearing your suit…..You could get hurt." Steve said more forcefully.
"You saying I'm soft, Rogers?" Tony said mockingly and held open the ropes for Steve. "So get in the ring. School me…If you can."
Steve looked down. He didn't want to fight Stark. "Look, what was said on the Carrier... I was wrong to say it… Anyway, it's forgotten. No hard feelings."
Tony studied the super soldier. "Really? Because it looks you want to pound something…hard. Maybe someone?" Although he hadn't seen him for months, it was clear that this Winter Soldier business had really gotten to Steve.
Jarvis had been able to hack the SHIELD database. He reported that Nick Fury had called Captain America in on a mission to apprehend the infamous assassin, the Winter Soldier. On this mission Steve had discovered that Bucky Barnes, his longtime friend had not been killed in the war after all but was found by a Russian patrol. Bucky's cold-preserved body, minus his arm that he lost in the explosion was shipped to Moscow. There he was given a bionic arm and amnesia allowed the Soviet doctors to program him as an assassin code named, the Winter Soldier. When not on missions, The Winter Soldier had been kept in a cryogenic stasis and as a result looked just as young as Steve.
Jarvis went on to relate that eventually Cap had tracked down and confronted him and was able to force Barnes to remember who he was. However the guilt over his past actions overwhelmed him and he used his premium skills to escape.
"I don't know why you're trying to get a rise out of me but forget it." Steve tried to push the anguish down again, like so many times before. He could not lose control. His military code and his own personal code forbid it.
'Breathe.' He told himself.
"So this is what Captain America does when he has a bad day at the office, huh? What's the matter, Steve? The Great War Hero had an op go wrong? Lose another soldier?"
Tony knew he hit the mark with that. Steve Rogers' entire body went ramrod straight and he began breathing like a bull. He saw Steve's teeth clench and his fists balled tight. Only then did Tony begin to wonder what the hell he was doing offering himself as a punching bag for a legendary military hero who was repressing his grief. But he doubled down and returned the soldier's piercing blue stare.
"C'mon, you and I have been spoiling for a one on one since we met. You're obviously looking to let off some steam. Let's do this." He dared him.
Without fanfare Cap gracefully entered the ring. He put on the gloves in the corner and turned to face his opponent.
Tony hooped and hollered in delight. "Ah yeah. It's on baby!"
"Shut up and box!" Steve ground out.
Tony ignored him and began to imitate Muhammad Ali in voice and moves. "Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. No way is the red white blue going to lay hand on me!"
Steve stood not moving. He watched Tony's comical movements for an opening. Then suddenly without warning, he struck the billionaire. Steve's punch connected with Tony's gut as fast and as powerful as a freight train!
Tony didn't remember falling over but he just lay on the canvas clutching his stomach. "You…are you trying to kill me?!"
Those who had been watching laughed aloud. Steve's face reddened and he became self-conscious. He cursed himself for rising to Tony's bait and not walking away.
"This will help." Steve helped Tony sit up and he pushed the inventor's head toward his knees. "Idiot! I didn't hit you that hard. I pulled my punch."
Tony lifted his head to look at the soldier incredulously.
"Just breathe." He pushed Tony's head down again. He waited and when he saw that Tony's breathing was becoming normal again, he extended his hand to help him up.
"I'm good. Really." Tony crawled away from the tall blonde and to the ropes where he hauled himself to his feet. "Let's uh…..try that again. C'mon."
"No, and I'm not letting you bait me again."
Tony was still breathing hard but he waived for Steve to come for him. "Bring it, Super Soldier!"
Steve couldn't believe this was happening. "Why are you doing this?"
Tony sighed. This wasn't what he'd envisioned when he entered the gym to meet Steve on his own turf. He realized honesty was better than bickering or subterfuge.
"A better question is, "why are you doing this? Hiding here…"
"I am NOT hiding."
"Really because I have it on good authority that you're here every day. Now that means either you're a fitness nut who likes decrepit old gyms OR you're running from something."
"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?" Steve seethed. He had heard through the SHIELD grapevine that Tony Stark had his own traumatic issues and vices for escape. "I heard about what happened with the Mandarin."
Tony flinched. "Yeah and I know what it's like to go without sleep or food or throw yourself into work to escape your demons."
"I don't know what you're talking about Stark…"
"At least I'm trying to move forward!" He squeaked out. Tony didn't like sharing things so deeply personal but the Avengers needed Captain America and he needed them. "I'm putting the band back together, Rogers."
"What?"
"The Avengers." Tony whispered. "We need you."
"Director Fury hasn't called me. Is there some trouble?"
Tony could see Steve's body snap into Captain Mode. "And you jump when he calls?" Tony challenged him. "Just like when he called you in on the Winter Soldier mission!"
Steve went white hot! Did Tony know that the Winter Soldier was really Bucky? Only Fury, his mission partner, the Falcon and Natasha Romanov knew what happened.
"It's none of your business, Stark!" He said in a clipped voice.
"Oooh!" The billionaire teased. "Classified, huh? Well I'm making it my business!" Tony knew he was pushing Steve. He wanted to see the stoic war hero drop his famous reserve. Although he risked another punch to the gut, he gambled that this would be good for the old man and an opportunity for him to show off his new toy.
Tony got into Cap's space and face. "I know he's Bucky Barnes and you let that bastard blame you for his fate."
Steve was flushed with anger and embarrassed that Tony had found what really ate at him. "You know nothing about it!" He countered weakly. "I was his commanding officer…If it wasn't for me…"
Steve's self-flagellation was pissing Tony off! "So damn noble! That's what you do, isn't it? Just suck it up and then knock the hell out of some punching bag! Get your head out of the past, old man! You weren't responsible for what happened to Barnes!"
Just then Captain America did something he never did. He lost control.
Steve took a swing at the smaller man. He tried to deliver an upper cut to Stark's jaw but as fast and as powerful as his swing was, it didn't land its target. Instead Steve saw a flash of light and felt his fist repelled by a rock hard force!
The soldier stepped back and cradled his fist in pain. "What was that?" He barked startled.
Steve saw the billionaire press something on his wrist and the flash of light was gone. Stark then came over and looked over the soldier's hand for injuries, probably out of remorse. Then he heard Tony Stark say something remarkable. "The things I said about you on the Helicarrier…I was wrong. You're the real deal, Cap and the Avengers needs you."
The soldier looked to see if this really was the arrogant jokester Tony Stark.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Yes, I mean it. It doesn't happen often and it's a foreign concept for me to be wrong…about anything but… I was wrong about you."
Seeing that nothing was broken he helped Steve out of the ring and walked him over to the ice machine. He threw a handful of ice in a towel and placed it on the man's hand.
Tony knew his design was pretty successful if it was able to ward off the punishing blow of Captain America. "I'm sorry." And he was, for both Steve's hand and his angst over Bucky.
Steve leaned on the wall for support and silently let the pain subside. The death of James Buchannan "Bucky" Barnes had hit him hard in 1945. Now he grieved for his friend a second time. Nothing had been as disturbing as finding Bucky was alive and turned into a weapon for a corrupt government and his skills as an assassin auctioned to the highest bidder.
He waved Tony away as though the pain, either physical or emotional was nothing. He was ashamed for Tony to have seen him like this. "How did you find out?" He asked quietly.
"No one told me anything." Tony assured him. "Bruce suspected something was wrong when you had lunch. So I went snooping in the SHIELD mission files." Tony conveniently left out that he broke into other man's apartment.
"Steve, the world has entered a new phase. We may be targets for alien species from now on. Not to mention the super villains galore out there. The Avengers needs you."
The soldier knew his duty and nodded. "I'll do what I can to help." Steve promised flatly. He tried to walk away but Tony grabbed him.
Tony wasn't done yet. "That's not good enough!"
Steve said nothing. He would never admit to Stark that his head wasn't in the game or that sleepless nights and empty days drove him to this gym daily.
"You're going to make me beg aren't you? Well I'm not doing it in front of a crowd." He said noting the onlookers. He pushed Steve to the empty locker room and on to a bench. He didn't know who he was more disgusted with, Cap or himself.
He took a bracelet off his forearm and slapped it on Cap's. "I made this for you. I call it a ForceShield" he explained. "I even made it with your patriotic color scheme!"
Tony was gratified to see Cap's fascination with the new technology and pointed to the two buttons on it. "The power button here turns it on and off and the other button keeps the shield in idle mode."
After a few seconds of wondering what the billionaire innovator had given him, Steve braced himself and hit the power button. Suddenly a holographic replica of his shield hummed to life. After his initial surprise, he swung it back and forth and it crackled with power. "You made this for me?"
Tony grinned obviously proud that he'd impressed Captain America.
"I think you'll find this easier to handle than a dishwasher. With this shield there's no having to strap it to your back when scaling cliffs or Nazi castles. Just turn it off when it gets in the way."
Steve didn't know what to say to this man. Tony Stark was a pain in the neck for sure but the son of his good friend Howard Stark had gone out of his way to gift him with this new shield and bring him into the Avengers' fold. "Stark, one of these days your antics are going to get you killed!"
"Pepper says that too. The Avengers needs you, Steve. Your muscle, your tactical skills… Give us a chance. Give the 21st century a chance."
Steve nodded in capitulation then squinted at him. "You're gonna rub my face in that little sparring match, aren't you?"
Tony laughed aloud in triumph. "Well who wouldn't put on their Facebook page, 'I kicked Captain America's ass today!'"
Steve shook his head and laughed too.
"But I think you've been humiliated enough." Tony said magnanimously then more seriously and offered him a handshake. "Can we count on you?"
Steve knew Tony was right. He had to get back in the game. There was no use in crying over…time lost. He grasped the other man's hand. "Just tell me when and where."
Excitement made Tony forget the pain Steve was in and he shook his hand wildly in victory.
"Oomph!"
"Sorry! Sorry… But this is great!" Tony grabbed his car keys off a hook on the wall. "I'll call you with a date for our first operations meeting. And keep ice on that. I'm calling you off the bench, Cap!"
Now late into the night, Steve sat in bed with his sketchpad and sleep continued to elude him. The SHIELD doctors had provided him with sleeping pills strong enough to put out a horse but after using it once, his body adjusted and they never worked again. He'd tried warm milk like his mother used to make for him but the empty glass sat on the nightstand and he was still awake. He'd tried doing pushups to exhaust himself until the neighbors below him tapped on the ceiling about the noise.
Then he settled in bed with his sketchpad waiting for sleep and praying for no nightmares.
Looking over his dark sketches, he decided to do something lighter, hoping to lift his spirits. He drew some of his favorite things: his mother's face before she got sick, feeding the gulls on Rockaway Beach with Bucky, the Howling Commandos camped out in the Hurten Forest drinking a bottle of brandy they'd found, and his more recent good memory: the Avengers eating shwarma. But he kept thinking about the one drawing he'd always wanted to do, the one person who filled him with joy whenever she had walked into a room. So Steve roughed out her image over and over.
It was said that master painter, Leonardo DaVinci never considered the Mona Lisa finished and travelled with it, always improving upon it. Steve knew how he felt. There was always one more line to add to Peggy's eyes or a curve to her chin to correct.
For the millionth time he sat shading the auburn highlights of Peggy's hair wondering if his memory could have faded, although that was unlikely with his serum-enhanced eidetic memory. At that moment a particular memory came to mind.
In a bombed out London bar, Steve Rogers had sat trying to get drunk and not remember the look on his friend's face when he fell to his death. Peggy Carter had found him there and brought with her, warmth and empathy.
"It wasn't your fault." She had said.
"Did you read the report?"
"Yes."
He scoffed. "Then you know that's not true."
She tried to comfort him with her big brown eyes. "You did everything you could."
But Steve hadn't believed that. He was Captain America. He was superhuman wasn't he? After Bucky had saved him and gotten him out of countless scrapes, why couldn't he have saved Bucky?
Peggy shook him out his self-pity. "Did you believe in your friend? Did you respect him? Then stop blaming yourself! Allow Barnes the dignity of his choice. He damn well must have thought you were worth it."
Steve's mind drifted further down into semi-consciousness as he wondered if Bucky still thought he was worth it.
"Time for bed, Captain." A woman's London accent tickled his ear and he felt delicate feminine fingers close around his wrist.
"Peggy?" Steve's voice rasped. He blinked and looked up at the petite British beauty of his drawing. As he'd imagined her a thousand times, she wore a long white silk nightgown with thin shoulder straps. The gown caressed her breasts and hips lightly masking her perfect hourglass figure.
He tried to reach for the woman he loved but his arms stayed dead wood at his side.
"You're meeting with Stark soon. How are you ever going to get anything accomplished, if you don't sleep?"
Was this the past or the present? Steve didn't know if she meant Howard or Tony. He didn't question it. Instead he watched Peggy as she removed Steve's sketchpad and pencils from his lap and placed them next to him on the bed. Steve held his breath as she took their spot and sat on his lap. Gently she put her arms around his neck.
"You're tired, Steve. Sleep. Orders, soldier."
He knew this couldn't be real. Everyone he knew was long gone. But then he smelled something familiar. The rose scented glycerin that had been sold during the war when perfume had been a luxury, was Peggy's signature scent. The enticing fragrance hung in the air long after she'd left a room. Now he breathed in the comforting floral scent as a balm for his soul.
"Shh." Peggy crooned and brought his head to cradle at her collarbone.
"If I could have just this…" Steve whispered as his body relaxed. "I could forget...Being so…so out of place….my failures…"
Peggy stroked his hair. "Shh. Lights out, soldier. Reveille will be playing soon."
Slowly, Steve's breathing evened and he slipped into an exhausted sleep.
Please let me know what you think.
Next chapter: Tony begins assembling the Avengers beginning with Agent Romanov